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The hardest thing I haven’t said…

I sit there not saying the words. They might be redemption or implosion, but words once out there become woven into the narrative of who we are. And I’ll sit there mutely not grasping repemption, for fear of implosion.

I had a carefully constructed framework and you had your place, securely delinated, safe, measured and known. And then you opened a door that I no longer thought was there and I glimpsed something. Perhaps. The balance is off. I can’t restore it to how it was. To all intents and purposes it’s smoke and mirrors, but I can’t return to how things were.

But I’m too scared to name it, too scared to ask for clarity. Too caring to risk upsetting the delicate balance of your life. Too mindful of friendship and respect to explore it.

You mean far too much to me and I can’t tell you that. You make me laugh about ridiculous things, you make me appreciate living. You care but I can’t let you in any further because you can’t be that person for me. Certainly not at present and I’m not sure you could ever at all.

You are flawed and imperfect and you make me heart-full with joy.

And the reason I can’t deny this to myself is the fact that I can’t hide the beaming joy whenever I talk or think of you. With one look people see that, I see that. Perhaps the only person who doesn’t is you.

So much subtext passes you by. You know all sorts of things but I suspect subtle covert communication will always fail to register. So I get away with feeling so much and nobody risks anything.

I wish I had grasped that moment and found out what you meant. It was unexpected. Outwith the negotiated bounds of how we relate. And I just let it wash on by.

You are not for me, you might actually be quite bad for me. But you make me happy and you care. That’s really quite a lot. And for now, until the balance changes again that will be fine.

I just wish you would find someone who made you glow, too. You are bright and difficult and wonderous and you deserve to adore and be adored.

Melodramtic heart indeed. I’ll shut up now and get back to baking.

Author: ishtaricat

Wierd, wired and wonderful. Bakes bread and cakes, knits hats, goes places and is getting all graphic...

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